


Commotion in the Classroom

by yourebrilliant



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock meet for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commotion in the Classroom

Arithmetic was not John’s best subject; it just didn’t make sense to him. He was so focused on puzzling over their current sheet of problems, that he was only aware of the commotion in the classroom when Mr Lestrade approached his desk, drawing behind him a skinny boy with curly black hair, amazing green eyes, and an outraged expression.

‘Are you even concerned with the fact that she kicked me, or are you determined to twist the facts to make me the villain?’ he was asking, glaring up at Mr Lestrade, who sighed deeply.

‘Of _course_ I’m concerned,’ Mr Lestrade said, stopping abruptly in front of John’s desk and crouching down in front of Sherlock. ‘Sally shouldn’t have kicked you and I’m going to speak to her about that. But, Sherlock, there is _no_ excuse for biting people! She’s bleeding!’ John’s eyes widened both at Sherlock’s actions, and at the satisfied – and slightly evil – smile that Sherlock managed to hide from Mr Lestrade. ‘Which means I have to take her to the nurse,’ Mr Lestrade continued, ‘and since you can’t be left to sit with Andy,’ Sherlock sneered across the classroom ‘you’re going to sit here with John until I get back.’

Sherlock heaved a long-suffering sigh and clambered into the seat of the desk next to John. Mr Lestrade stood again, his gaze sweeping over both of them. ‘John,’ he started. After a pause he sighed. ‘Just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone else,’ he said, ‘I think that’s all we can ask for.’

John nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, Mr Lestrade,’ he said.

‘Yes, Mr Lestrade,’ Sherlock murmured mockingly.

John looked over to where the other boy had folded himself into his chair; knees pulled up, feet braced on the seat, and huddled down, his shoulders pulled up and arms crossed over his chest. He coughed, and Sherlock shuttled his gaze to the left. ‘Hi,’ John said, smiling warmly, ‘I’m John-’

‘Watson, I know,’ Sherlock said, sounding bored.

‘Really?’ John asked, surprised that this exotic creature had heard of him. No one ever noticed John; he made sure of that.

Sherlock sighed mightily and turned to look at John. ‘John Watson, early birthday making you the eldest class member. Your unusual maturity and quiet nature would imply a loud and rebellious sibling, probably younger, and a strong sense of loyalty, which leads you to put effort into causing no further trouble for your family. Carefully middling student, you have no enemies but also no close friendships. Your coursework is not as good as it could be because you hold back in order to avoid attention.’ The look Sherlock gave John at this point eloquently conveyed his opinion of this decision. ‘You agree that Sally was wrong to kick me, but are too scared of her to say anything.’ When John was silent for a moment, Sherlock raised an eyebrow questioningly.

‘That...was brilliant,’ John breathed. Sherlock shrugged, but a small smile played about his lips. ‘My sister Harry is younger than me and a pain in the neck. She drives mum and dad mental. And how did you know about Sally?’

Sherlock sighed. ‘’Cause she’s evil and you’re not,’ he commented. John tried not to beam at this compliment.

‘So...what happened over there?’ John asked, after a moment.

Sherlock twisted in his chair in order to glare over at Andy some more without unfolding himself from his seat. ‘Sally said I’d stolen her pencil when any fool could see Andy took it to get her attention. When I pointed out that even someone as stupid as her should be able to figure it out, she kicked me. So I bit her.’ He said the last part matter-of-factly, as though it was an entirely reasonable response to kicking.

John bit his lip. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t bite Sally,’ he commented shortly.

Sherlock looked back at him, shocked. ‘How else do I get her to stop kicking me?’ he asked, genuinely confused.

John shrugged. ‘You could stop calling her stupid,’ he suggested.

‘But she _is_ stupid,’ Sherlock insisted.

‘I don’t think so,’ John said. ‘She’s not as smart as you,’ he paused, ‘but, then, I don’t think anyone is.’

Sherlock looked away for a moment.

‘Sherlock?’ John asked.

‘Fine,’ Sherlock said shortly, ‘but you have to stop holding back on tests,’ he added.

‘Deal,’ John agreed, extending a hand across the space between their desks. Sherlock unwound one arm and shook John’s hand decisively. ‘Why are you all folded up like that?’ John asked.

‘I’m cold,’ Sherlock commented, his voice muffled as he huddled further into his scarf.

‘I’m not surprised,’ John commented. ‘There’s nothing to you.’ Sherlock watched, bemused, as John started wriggling in his seat; first one arm, then the other, disappearing into his thick, over-large jumper. Finally, he drew it over his head, rumpling his fluffy blond hair, and held it out to Sherlock. ‘Here you go,’ he said quietly, not looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock stared at him. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured eventually, reaching out to take the jumper. When he had pulled it on over his skinny frame, he unwound his favourite scarf and held it across the distance.

John beamed at him, accepting the scarf happily and winding it loosely about his neck. ‘Sherlock,’ he said after a moment.

‘Yes?’

‘Have you ever had a best friend?’

Sherlock watched him quietly, looking for signs of deceit or mocking. He found none. ‘No,’ he admitted.

‘Me neither,’ John said, ‘but, then, you knew that.’ Sherlock nodded. John paused. ‘D’you want to be mine?’ he asked quietly.

Sherlock considered his offer. ‘You’ll make enemies,’ he commented eventually.

John smiled at him warmly. ‘I think a best friend is worth a few enemies,’ he said.

Sherlock grinned. ‘Do you want to be my best friend?’ he asked, in return.

‘Definitely,’ John said happily. ‘So, how d’you know it was Andy who stole Sally’s pencil? Maybe she just lost it.’

Sherlock snorted derisively. ‘Sally chews her pencils when she’s thinking,’ he said, his lip curling with disgust at this habit. ‘I don’t, and thus my pencils are clean. Andy doesn’t either but the pencil he’s using today has bite marks on it.’

‘Brilliant,’ John breathed.

‘Obvious,’ Sherlock shrugged, but he smiled at John.

 

When Mr Lestrade returned with a subdued Sally, he settled her in her seat before he turned to Andy. ‘Andy,’ he said solemnly, ‘did you steal Sally’s pencil?’

Andy tried to brazen it out for a moment, before nodding shamefacedly and handing Sally’s pencil back to her.

Across the room, Mr Lestrade heard someone murmur ‘Brilliant!’ and two boys giggled quietly. Lestrade looked for the source of the comment and boggled at the sight of Sherlock Holmes, his desk dragged closer to his neighbour, swamped in John Watson’s jumper and grinning proudly. John, in turn, was wearing Sherlock’s blue scarf and regarding Sherlock with an air of awe and pride. After a moment he shrugged, and returned his attention to scolding Andy. Maybe John would be a good influence on Sherlock and, after all, how much trouble could they get into?


End file.
